


The Smell of Chemicals

by totallyinnocent



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Crushing, Fab Four, First Kiss, Fluff, One Shot, Oneshot, Other, demisexual, fluff one shot, fluff oneshot, hair dying, jet is demi because i said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyinnocent/pseuds/totallyinnocent
Summary: Request on tumblr!Poison needs help dying his hair and Jet just happens to be in the vicinity.
Relationships: Jet Star/Party Poison, Jet Star/Party Poison (Danger Days), jetpoison - Relationship
Comments: 13
Kudos: 32





	The Smell of Chemicals

**Author's Note:**

> you can submit requests @your-emo-uncle-frank-iero on tumblr :p

“What the fuck, Kobra?!”

“I’m sorry! I told you I didn’t know how to do this!”

“You’re worse than Ghoul was, and he literally ate it!”

“Poison, I told you I couldn’t do this, but you dragged me in here anyway!”

There’s a loud crash of bottles and other objects before Kobra comes flying out of the bathroom, nearly toppling over. He huffs once he’s upright and storms past Jet, who had wandered over to investigate the chaos.

Jet sighs even more deeply than Kobra had, already tired of whatever Poison had been making a big deal about. He moves to enter the bathroom when a red splattered Party Poison stomps out with a dark red stained t-shirt slung around his neck. Jet's heart nearly stops as he sees what he believes to be blood covering them.

Poison’s sour facial expression is immediately replaced with a thrilled one at the sight of Jet. “Ah, my little airplane! You can help me!”

“With what?”

They don’t respond, only clasp Jet’s jacket tightly, guiding him into the disaster bathroom while smearing the mystery substance on his poor sleeve. When Jet steps in, he’s immediately hit with a strong scent of chemicals and what he vaguely knows to be paint. Spending his days in the diner around Poison let him know that he was probably right.

Poison grabs Jet’s callused hands and maneuvers them into a cupping motion.

They move to continue with whatever they had planned but hesitate. “Are you familiar with hair?”

Even though he wasn’t much of a joking type, Jet found this to be a decent opportunity. “I’d say so. I have some of my own, so I must be.”

Poison wasn’t amused.

Jet coughs a bit and sputters, slightly embarrassed that his joke hadn’t gone through. “Um, yeah, I’m fine with hair. I take care of Kid’s since you guys don’t know how to take care of that kind of hair.”

They bite their lip and look down at Jet’s still-cupped hands. “That’ll have to work,” they mutter, and before Jet knows it, Poison is pouring a thick red substance into his palms.

“What is that?” Jet asks with clear distaste to the smell.

Poison rolls their eyes. “Hair dye, duh.”

Jet lifts the dye to his face and gives it a large sniff while Poison resists every urge in their body to slap to color into his face.

Jet moves the color away from his face and his face contorts into confusion. “You’ve always dyed it on your own. Why do you need help now?”

They wave away his question. “Nothing, my shoulders hurt so raising my arms is painful.” Poison spots Jet giving them a sympathetic look and waves nonchalantly at him. “I’ll be fine... but my hair won’t with my roots growing in,” he sighs dramatically.

Jet takes this as a hint to drop it. He motions for Poison to sit in the rickety chair also covered in a red splatter. Poison drops into the seat gratefully and adjusts the dark shirt around their neck.

Jet sinks his hands into Poison’s floppy wet hair and begins rubbing the dye into their roots. It’s awkward at first. Poison winces when Jet rubs to harshly or pulls his hair. Jet doesn’t know how much pressure he could use to press down without hurting them. They both keep quiet. The only sound being the occasional wet slap of more dye.

Poison had enough. “Can we just talk or something?” they blurt out.

Jet freezes. “Sure.”

“It’s just I always have music playing or something whenever I do this...”

He nods understandingly. “That’s fine... anything you wanted to talk about?”

Poison groans loudly. “No! It’s supposed to be a natural conversation! I don’t want this awkward meet and greet!”

Jet continues rubbing in the dye, trying to not freak out. Okay then...”

There’s silence for several agonizing seconds before Poison gets tired of it again.

“Destroya, Jet! Are we going to talk or not?!”

“I don’t know what to say,” Jet fumbles. “Can you start the conversation instead?”

“About anything?”

He nods. “Anything is fine. I just want you to be comfortable.”

Then, it’s silent again. Jet looks down at Poison, only getting the view of their scalp and not their face. He has no idea what they’re thinking. He nearly breaks the silence after a long moment of thought before they’re talking again.

He might’ve expected Poison to ramble on about clothes or themself, but they didn’t.

“How come you never sleep with anyone when we have a party at the diner?”

This catches Jet off guard.

“Or whenever there’s a party anywhere, technically,” they add.

He nearly pushes Poison away from him as a physical manifestation at his constant pushing away at the subject when it’s brought up. He hates it when everyone brings it up. Sleeping with a colorful stranger has all the appeal, but Jet never thought of it as such. He wanted an emotional connection. Something more than taking the edge off a hard day. Or a hard life.

“I just don’t want too.”

With his hands on their head, Jet feels Poison tense slightly. “Why’s that?”

He doesn’t know why they’re bringing it up, but he does feel more at ease while talking. “I want a connection... I guess.”

“Lame,” Poison teases, tipping their head back to look up at Jet. They grin up at him but immediately stop at Jet’s hurt expression. “Hey, airplane, I’m just kidding. That’s totally fine,” they whisper softly.

Jet purses his lips and nods, suddenly feeling embarrassed for his preference. His discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed.

Poison reaches their hands up and grabs Jet’s face, smearing red all over his cheeks. They take their thumb and rub a bit of red on his nose.

“Don’t be upset, my little airplane.”

“I’m taller than you.”

Poison slathers the dye on Jet’s lips, causing him to immediately close his mouth and try to not accidentally ingest any of it. “Shh, my little airplane. Anyway, don’t feel weird about it. I just wanted to know.”

Jet thinks about this for a moment. “Well, why do you?”

This one stumps them. They stay quiet as Jet continues rubbing the color into his hair and rubbing the dye off his face with the back of Poison’s shirt. It’s not something they’d ever been asked of even considered before. Finally, they speak.

“I don’t know.”

Now Jet is the one to sport the stumped look. “Oh...”

Poison shrugs. “It’s not like I don’t enjoy it, because I do, but I don’t really see why I wouldn’t do it. Y’know?”

Jet, in fact, did not know. He did know that he had to be supportive of his friend, however, so he nods. Then, he knows he shouldn’t be nodding, he wouldn’t lie to Poison about his feelings.

“No, I don’t. I want something long term.”

Poison’s eyes grow wide in recognition. “Oh, I’ve had a few of those!”

This shocks him. “What was it like?” Jet finds himself asking.

“Same as a one-nighter, but you knew they would be there.”

Then Jet understood. “Poison, that’s not a long term relationship. That’s just being fuck buddies.”

He doesn’t like thinking about Poison sleeping around for some odd reason, so he deems his dye job to be complete and turns around and starts to wash his hands in the sink. The red coloring swirling down into the drain is mesmerizing, but Jet still feels the sudden weight on his shoulder.

He turns to see Poison with their cheek on his shoulder, letting Jet support their full weight. They clearly don’t want to stay anything. Their face has lines of distress and thought which Jet doesn’t want to push into. Instead, he finished washing off the color the best he could and brings Poison to the couch.

“I think we have to wait for half an hour. Is that right?” Jet softly asks.

Poison curls up against his chest and hums in conformation.

Jet rests his arm around Poison and gets ready to wait in a long silence. Only, he should’ve realized, it’s never silent with Poison.

“Have you been in a real relationship, airplane?”

“Yeah, once.”

He feels Poison’s facial expression change against his chest. “What was that like?”

Jet sighs deeply and pulls up the now heart wrenching memories. “It was one of the best times of my life.”

“Well, why did it end if it was so great?” Poison presses.

Then come the even more buried memories. “He found someone else. She was nice, I met her once, and I could tell from the way he looked at me and the way he looked at her that I wasn’t first priority anymore. I don’t blame him.”

Poison shoots up into a sitting position at the ending statement and squishes Jet’s face with one hand.

“Don’t ever say that about yourself.”

Jet sighs and attempts to let it go. But he could never lie to Poison. “It’s true and that’s fine.”

Poison starts to become exasperated. “Jet, please.”

They’re really close to him.

How did Jet not realize how close they are?

“Poison, it’s fine. Just let it go.”

Like really close to him.

Like very up in his face close to him.

Yet, for some reason, Jet didn’t mind. It was practically identical to the drunks or high rebels trying to hint they were interested at parties. It was the same. Someone stepping right into Jet’s boundaries, only looking for another warm body and nothing more.

“I’m not going to let it go, because- because you’re perfect and-”

And then Jet was kissing them.

It was close-mouthed and quick. Some wouldn’t even call it a kiss, more brushing of lips, but it was. It was a kiss. Jet just kissed Party Poison. Party Poison was known for sleeping around. Party Poison flirts with everyone they meet. Party Poison wants nothing long term or confining. Party Poison who wasn’t right for Jet Star.

Yet, they were.

Poison stays in the same position, unblinking, even after Jet had moved away. Then, slowly, at the pace of a snail, his face grew as red as his hair-to-be. They lock eyes with Jet, whose heart was beating rapidly, and reach up to press their lips together once more.

“Um, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first. That was so stupid. I’m really sorry, Poison-” he rambles once they back away, only to be cut off by another soft kiss.

Then they’re quiet for a long while, not an uncomfortable silence, but a relaxed silence. They both sat there so long that the agonizing half-hour became a worryingly quick minute. Jet stands up and stretches slowly, pulling Poison to their feet once his blood is flowing normally. Poison gives a pained gasp as their arm is pulled.

“What’s wrong?” Jet immediately asks.

Poison shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s just my arm is still fucked up.”

Jet wraps a caring arm around them and guides them both back to the bathroom to quickly wash out the excess dye. He delicately pushes them down into the red splattered chair, hardly putting any force, barely a tap, to which Poison teases him relentlessly for. He scrubs out the dye with a pink-tinted face and takes the shirt slung around Poison’s neck to dry them off.

Poison grabs a random shirt lying around and pulls it on, shaking their hair like a wet dog. It was one of the most unintentionally charming things Jet had ever seen, but he quickly snaps out of his trance at the whimper Poison gives.

“Here,” he says. And before he’s even realized it, he’s rubbing Poison’s shoulders smoothly.

He nearly stops, scared he’s overstepped, when Poison gives a loud relieved sigh. They lean back against Jet in a woozy slump and melt into his hands.

“Hey, Poison, have you- oh my god!”

Poison stands upright and Jet moves backward so fast you could’ve thought Poison had shocked him.

It was Kobra.

“Oh my god, that is an image I will never get out of my head,” he groans before turning and walking out of the bathroom.

There is some faint chattering and Poison and Jet take this time to sneak a glance at each other, but not daring to get close again.

Then there are loud rushed footsteps.

“Oh, nice! Fucking called it! I knew you two were dating,” Ghoul yells.

Party looks and Jet, face as red as their hair. They’d never dated someone before. Was that what this was?

“Shut up, Ghoul,” Jet mumbles, but neither confirms nor denies it.

That was all Poison needed to know.


End file.
